Indian Friday: Last Day in Chennai

My diary, revived from my trip to India back in 2007. This second part details my solo travels during the last three weeks or so. From now on, increasingly exhausted, my entries become terser and frustratingly light on detail.

Last Day in Chennai

Monday 3rd December

I woke up with a high fever and sore throat, listening to heavy rain outside – and I only had the clothes I stood up in. I’d have liked to have bought a brolly, but no luck.

Heavy rain in Mamallapuram

Finally the Blue Elephant cafe, where I’d been yesterday opened, and the woman in charge, on hearing my voice, wouldn’t hear of my having a coffee – ‘Lemon and ginger for you!’ Mighty delicious – huge chunks of ginger brewing in squeezed lemon juice and hot water. I couldn’t face an Indian breakfast though, so it was eggs and toast. After that it wasn’t too long before I caught the bus back to Chennai, where fever or no fever, there was still shopping to be done, and packing to be done back at The Hotel from Hell.

My rickshaw driver in Chennai

I eventually made it to the station , where I planned to catch a train to the airport  –  a local service with a quick journey time. How was I to know that the train would fill and fill and fill and fill until people were hanging from the doorways in true travel doc. style? With me crushed inside feeling iller by the second? Actually, ‘crushed’ doesn’t begin to cover it: the only reason I didn’t fall to the floor was that it was physically impossible. At a certain point I couldn’t stand it any more, and somehow forced myself and luggage off the train, with everyone shouting behind me ‘No! No! Airport is 2 more stations!’. By then though I was sprawled across the platform, vomiting and vomiting as the train went off. A lovely man tried to help – he brought me water which he poured over me, washing my face and making me drink. A concerned crowd gathered, but by then I had lost all pride as I lay there, being repeatedly sick.

Two police women turned up, at as much of a loss as everyone else. Finally, they made a decision. They manhandled me, extraordinarily roughly, as if I were a somewhat dangerous demonstrator rather than a rather ill female tourist, and tried to bundle me onto a train. By yelling and weeping I managed to avoid the first train (later now, the trains were nearly empty again), but lost the battle in the end as they chucked me onto the floor of the next one.

At the airport station, we were joined by a handsome young male PC, who carried me ‘Gone with the Wind’ style up the stairs (shame I was way too ill to appreciate it) and heaved me into a rickshaw, where they all joined me, together with my luggage. Airport at last – or at least the airport medical centre. Here they finally examined me and decided I needed to go to hospital – I’d been muttering that for at least an hour. An ambulance appeared and I was dumped on a stretcher – bang! The ambulance driver revelled in using his siren – who wouldn’t if it meant actually MOVING in the streets of Chennai? And after arriving at hospital  I don’t remember much of the rest of the day. I think the Consulate was told, and dealt with the fact I could no longer catch my flight home.

It’s rather astonishing to me that I even took two photos that day. But I did: one on the beach at Mamallapuram in the rain, the other of my very last auto-rickshaw driver in Chennai. My featured photo, of the central station at Chennai is courtesy of Unsplash, and taken by Ahamed Sameel.

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Author: margaret21

I'm retired and live in North Yorkshire, where I walk , write, volunteer and travel as often as I can.

52 thoughts on “Indian Friday: Last Day in Chennai”

  1. Oh my goodness, what an experience and how awful for you. And yet another cliffhanger for us readers! So glad to know that clearly, you have survived and clearly, you did get home eventually.

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  2. There can’t be a much worse feeling than being so ill and so alone in a foreign country. I know the tale must end well, since you’re here to tell it, but at the time it must have felt like a nightmare.

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  3. Whew- I’ve traveled a few times when I wasn’t feeling well and it was really difficult. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard to must have been to be this sick while traveling in another country.

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  4. That must have been quite terrifying. Thank goodness it worked out in the end and you went to hospital, largely thanks to the kindness of strangers and also the officials being practical if not always gentle.

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